Gingers Do It Better
by DaftPyromaniac
Summary: Two men on a string. One a friend who he had a fling, another a drug lord king. Story is much better inside.Slash. Kyle/Christophe Kyle/Craig
1. Chapter 1

**Pairings: Kyle/Christophe Kyle/Craig Babe/Wendy**

**Description: Two men on a string. One a friend who he had a fling, another a drug lord king.**

**Rating: Lots of swearing and references to sex. Can't handle it? Go read fluff.**

**Desclaimer: I would love to own South Park, I don't though. So, South Park is _NOT_ made by me, it would be full of a lot more Kyle if it was =3 Plot is mine.**

**_I usually put the numbers next to a sentence, or paragraph that could have a little more explanation on my part but doesn't need to interupt the story. So, when you're done reading, or if you're just dying to know, the bottom will link up with the number._**

**A review would motivate me to update faster!**

**WARNING: Contains bad language and _really_ bad French. Forgive me D:  
**

* * *

"Bull Christophe. There is no way Butters is straight." Gregory's mouth was gaped open, his soda- with a straw because he was just that dainty- long forgotten at the news.

"Oui, he iz." Christophe plucked the drink from his friend's hands and threw the straw over his shoulder, not really caring who it hit, which sounded like a man to drunk to care.

"Okay, how about Eric? He's straight right?"

The Frenchman took a swig and deciding it was unworthy of his attention, slipped it sly back into Gregory's nonmoving hands.

"He obzessez over world domination so much I don't believe hez ever looked at a woman or man."

"Kenny?"

The drink once more lay unnoticed to the liberal.

"He haz already slept wiz men and women. Non denying he iz bisexzual."

"How do you know all of this? I think you're just making shit up."

Gregory sipped his beverage, scrunching up his face with disgust he also came to the conclusion it was below him to drink it.

"Why make eet up?"

"To piss me off?"

Christophe just grunted in response and leaned against the older, wooden chair.

They were in a local hushed bar, suppose to be discussing their latest mission from overseas but instead got caught up in sexuality when the blonde brought up Babe and Wendy's recent out in the open relationship.

Stan and Wendy got over each other in elementary (1) and now the star football player was a bigger man-whore then Kenny, sleeping with any female that breathed and moved.

A tall, lean, young man strutted over to them and asked if they wanted anything else. Christophe pointed to a bottle of whiskey behind the polished counter almost directly in front of him. "Sure thing."

The owner was kind enough to let the local kids drink under his roof with only three rules; they had their own place to crash, didn't tell any adults, and always entered and exited out back.

"Anyways, here's the plans. Simple and easy. They just want a few pounds imported. Nothing to serious."

Christophe nodded and threw down a couple dollars to pay for his drinks, "End of ze week, I got zet. Get a hold of me if you got anyzhing new to tell me."

* * *

"Fuck you…" Craig grumbled, tossing the X-Box's controller to the ground in a fit of rage.

"Oh come on, play me again!" Kyle laughed heartedly and laid himself on his best friend's back, snuggling his face into his neck.

"You sound like we're having sex."

Brushing his lips against Craig's ear, the redhead flirtatiously mumbled, "Do me Tucker, do me!" while grabbing a fistful of his dark ebony hair.

"God damn you Broflovski (2), get off me." Kyle rolled off and flat onto his back and laughed again.

After Stan joined the football team and started to hang out with Token and Clyde, leaving Craig and Kyle alone in the dust, the two became good friends.

They were complete opposites but everything about the other complimented themselves; Kyle's strong beliefs and Craig's uncaring, logical attitude.

"Ike Moisha Broflovski (3), get the fuck out of my room!"

"What's wrong? Don't want me to see you getting all gay with your boy friend?"

Kyle picked up a pillow and launching it at his brother, who smoothly dodged it, screeched for him to get out once more.

"Fine! You bitch-"

"Ike! Watch your language!"

"Dinner's done by the way."

This time it was Craig's turn to laugh, who did so as wrapped his arms tightly around Kyle.

"Why aren't I your boyfriend again?"

"Because I prefer to just keep it at friends with benefits. Come on now, I'm starving. You can get your ass kicked by my awesome skills afterwards. You are staying the night, right?"

* * *

A cigarette lit and almost down to the but, was resting on Christophe's scabbed and cut lips.

It was pitch black and the air icy but he was forced to sit out in three feet of snow, waiting for his guy to drop the goods off.

The holey clothes weren't helping and neither was the fact he was almost out of Camels.

'Dépêchez-vous la baise (Translation: Hurry the fuck up) '

Finally a short, fat man waddled up to a wooden crate, filled with empty wine bottles to be recycled, and placed a duffle bag next to it and after wiping his brow with a yellow stained kerchief, was off again.

After a moment of reassurance, Christophe approached the bag and opened it, "Sheet!"

* * *

Craig and Kyle, both covered in sweat, were intertwined with each other when the unmistakable ringtone of Mrs. Tucker went off in the pair of black skinny jeans on the floor.

Growling slightly, Craig reached his long arm around Kyle and grabbed it in one swift move, and answered the phone.

"Yeah mom? No- I- No, I was going to- Okay! Fine. Yeah, you to."

"Your mom is calling you home and you're rushing off to obey."

"I'll stay if you ask me to, Broflovski. Ask me to stay and cuddle and fuck you all night and I will." He was pleading gently, wanting his best friend to be more than just that.

He fell for Kyle, and hard.

"No, that's alright. We can play on another night. Go home. Your mommy doesn't like you to be out to late."

"Oh, ha-ha." Flipping Kyle off and picking his clothes up off of the perfectly neat ground was nostalgic for the pair.

"See you at school."

"Yeah, bye."

* * *

"Gregory? Zhey fucked us over. Oui! The fucked us straight up zee ass.

"Non. I'm trying to find a place to 'ide."

Within two beeps the device was dead, and Christophe was without communication while two, or three, he couldn't see all them all that well, big men were following him quickly.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… Why do you curse me god?'

Not more than a block away was an opportunity, hidden by a tall wooden fence and a good amount of snow, and knowing he was going to be chopped liver if he didn't take it, he prepared himself to dodge quickly.

And he successfully did, right into Kyle Broflovski's open window from Craig's quick departure.

"What the-"

"Shut zee fuck up if vous(you) know what is good for vous."

A shinny object flashed for a moment and before he knew what happened, Kyle had a barrel pointed square in the center of his forehead.

"Is that the Luger? Where on earth did you get that? How did you afford it is a better question!"

"Shut up!"

Kyle obliged but seemed relatively fascinated by the dark hand gun.

Looking out the window, focusing on the goonies obviously blindly following straight ahead, Christophe didn't really get much of a look at the kidnapee.

"Kyle?"

"Uhm, yes?"

Kyle's eyes sparkled a soft, innocent hazel (4), his skin no longer adorned with freckles, instead was almost porcelain perfect, and his hair settled in a messy heap of brushed out curls.

"You do not recognize me? I died in you armz and yet you do not recognize me? I've been going to zee school you reside at for a year now and you do not recognize me? Eet iz true zat I'm never zhere and am a grade ahead of you and-"

"Mole?" His brown hair was windblown, unkempt and looked much like it use to when they were kids. He was tall and muscular, with a nice healthy tan and his deep brown, nearly black eyes stared Kyle down.

"It iz actually Christophe." He lowered the gun and placing it back into its original place to show he wasn't going to blow the red heads brains out.

Kyle smiled at the reconnection to an old friend, but soon his face burned passionately when he realized he was bare naked from Craig underneath the blanket.

Sensing something was wrong, the Frenchman let his eyes drift to where the hazel ones lay.

There on the bluish-gray carpet was a pile of clothes thrown off in a rush.

"What are you doing in here, Mol-err Christophe? Shouldn't you be leaving right about now?"

"Are you naked, Kyle?"

* * *

_**Don't forget to vote on which couple you would rather see~!**_

**(1) I _HATE_ Stan and Wendy as a couple.**

**(2) Useless fact, Kyle's last name is spelled many different ways. If you spell it different that's your game. Please feel free to look it up on South Park wiki.**

**(3) Yes, Ike Moisha Broflovski is hisname given to him by the Broflovski's. Sexy, eh?**

**(4) _NO._ Kyle's eyes are _NOT_ green. _PLEASE_ feel free to look it up. Episode "_Good Times With Weapons_" shows Kyle with _BROWN_ eyes. **


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thank you to everyone who reviewed =3**_

_**But it seems that only one person really knows who they want for Kyle, so this chapter is mostly based on that couple.**_

_**If you want Christophe you have to request Christophe =)**_

**Craig: 1 Christophe: 0**

* * *

"Are you naked, Kyle?"

"If you could hand me those sweatpants I won't be."

Christophe rose his eyebrows, amused at the redheads current situation, and debated silently rather or not to oblige him.

"Dude, you put a gun to my head and I'm not asking any question about why, all I'm asking is for my sweatpants three feet away from you."

The Frenchman pointed to the lump of dark gray and looked at Kyle with a smirk plastered onto his face.

"Unless you see another pair laying around then those must be them."

"Vous ne doit pas être une chienne à ce sujet.(You shouldn't be a bitch about it.)"

"What did you just say?"

"Goodbye Kyle."

With the pants in one hand, Christophe gracefully slipped out of the Broflovski house hold and back into the cold night from which he originally came from.

* * *

"You're such a fucking whore!"

"Me a whore? I haven't slept with anyone in our 20 years of marriage, unlike you!"

Ruby and Craig were sitting next to each other in Ruby's neat and tiny room, listening to their parent's recent argument through the wall.

"Well you never want to have sex anymore!"

"And you never want to work anymore (1)!"

"There we go again, it's always the same shit isn't it?"

Whispering as low as she could manage, Ruby turned to her brother, "I don't want them to get a divorce."

Craig smiled bitterly.

He wouldn't mind them being split up as long as one of them chose to stay here. He didn't think he could handle being too far from Kyle.

He'd most likely emancipate himself and return like a lost puppy to the Jew's doorstep if that happened.

He knew Kyle didn't like him like that, but he didn't want anyone else.

"I'm not taking this! I'm going to my sisters!"

"Fine run away from your problems!"

"Problem! I have one problem and it's you!"

The yelling muffled as the two Tuckers continued their argument outside where the neighbors would be watching with dropped jaws and a note pad to write it all down with.

The next time Craig or Ruby would run into one of them they would have a sympathetic look on their faces and offer them some form of comfort food.

"Craig?"

"Yeah?"

"I asked, if you had to choose which one to live with which one would it be?"

Out of nervous habit, Craig started to pick lint off of his long legs (2) before finally coming to an answer to satisfy his little sister, "I'll go wherever you go."

* * *

"Hey, what's with the face Kyle? And where's Craig. Not like I'm complaining, you know. Front seat for once." Kenny buckled in Kyle's metal death trap, greeting his friend.

Even though Stan and Kyle drifted apart, Kenny had always remained friends with the ginger.

The relationship wasn't as strong as Tucker's, but it was there.

"I had the worst night of my life. Craig bailed half way through the night for some unknown reason."

Kenny rolled down the sparkly clean window and stuck his arms and head out like a dog would on a sunny day.

"What happened?"

* * *

Christophe, normally a very light sleeper, found the fact he slept through his alarm clock for a complete hour a surprise none the less.

And after dressing himself as quickly as possible and making his way into the living room he found he was less than surprised, and more resentful.

The normally well kept place was torn apart from wall to wall in what looked like a search for something which must have been fairly important.

Growling, he kicked an end table out of his way and picked up a half empty pack of cigarettes lying beneath it. "Dieu vous maudisse, Gregory.(God damn you)"

A quick move had to take place as soon as physically possible, which meant no school, something fairly upsetting seeing how much he was looking forward to seeing a certain redhead once more.

* * *

Crawling out of his red 1972 Volkswagen (3), Kyle, out of habit, went to the steps Craig usually sat at in the morning with Kenny in tow, whose jaw was still hung open from his friend's story.

"Tucker."

"McCormick."

The two had a very mutual relationship. The only reason they hung out was because both followed Kyle like he was their source of water during a drought.

"So, what did your mom want last night, Craig?"

The ginger placed himself in the center of the two, as he always did.

"To watch Ruby so she and my dad could argue without having to worry about her, I don't know, getting into their liqueur cabinet again."

Kyle's brow knitted together with worry as he placed a comforting hand on Craig's leg.

"Why don't you bring her over next time? She could hang out with Ike."

"Nah. He probably wouldn't want anything to do with her."

"Who cares! He needs some human interaction that doesn't involve the computer and math class."

Kenny, knowing he wasn't going to get a word in on the conversation, stood and walked away after mumbling a swift bye.

"Okay, okay. You win! I'll bring her when I head over to your house today. But, you do know that there is this huge age difference between them right (4)?"

Kyle tried to suppress a laugh before saying, "Ike likes older women. I should know seeing how he doesn't erase his browser history."

* * *

"I'm sorry Chris, I don't know why the men didn't show up but I'll be sure to make them pay." Gregory rocked slightly in his leather computer chair, focused more on the paper work then the angry Frenchman in front of him.

"Gregory! Pay attention you damn Brit!" Christophe slapped the paperwork from the blonde's hands, sending it flying like confetti.

"Mind your manners!"

"Shut ze fuck up. Send men over to my houze now! Have zem pack up all ze sheet that layz a mess only because they weren't standing guard lazz night and have zem find me a new place to live and unpack everyzhing! Do you understand me?" His voice rose with each venom filled word, until he was screaming at the bewildered Gregory.

"I-Uhh. Yes, I'll get right on that."

"I'm going to work now. When I'm done I expect sheet to be ready."

"Of course, Chris."

* * *

Kyle repeatedly tapped his number two pencil on his desk, listening to Wendy talk about her girlfriend with loving passion.

While most people would think they wouldn't have anything in common other than Stan the truth was they were like twins.

And through each other with lots of experimenting, the two found they preferred their own gender rather than the opposite.

Of course they were there to tell both sets of their parents the news to, and surprisingly all of them were okay with it.

Sheila joined PFLAG(Parents, Family, and Friends of Lesbians and Gays)the very same day.

If it wasn't for the other Kyle would still be dating Red and Wendy Token.

To Wendy Kyle was her Craig.

"So, who are you taking to prom? Tucker?"

"I don't know…" Kyle traced circles onto the table, "I don't want him to get the wrong idea."

"Oh god Broflovski! It's too late for that!"

"Well, if Kyle iz available I'd be more zen happy to take him out." Christophe leaned against the desk and snickered at the ginger with his all knowing eyes.

"Where the fuck are my pants you French ass hole?"

"Uh, what are you-" Wendy, startled by the sudden appearance and change of subject was in full silence.

"Ah, here you are Mr. Delorne, M'kay." Mr. Mackey walked over, placing a large folder in the Frenchman's callused hands.

Most likely homework he needed done.

"Merci." Winking at Kyle, he took his leave just like that.

"What was that all about? Are you cheating on Craig?"

"What? Craig isn't my boyfriend and he won't ever be! Why can't anyone get that through their thick skulls?"

* * *

_**Don't forget to pick the couple you want to see!**_

**(1) Craig's parents are out of work and are on welfare, as revealed in episode _"Here Comes The Neighborhood"_**

**(2) Craig is the tallest, thinnest, and oldest boy in their class, as said in several episodes.**

**(3) A red 1972 Volkswagen is my dream car so thus I give it to Kyle for safe keeping!**

**(4) Ruby is only 2 years younger then Kyle and Ike has a 6 years difference from his brother.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Yes! I am that quick of an updater! I've been trying to write atleast one chapter every 12 hours, so you can pretty much keep a look out. What can I say? Insomniacs get things done.**

I had one reviewer **(TAJNace)** who was slightly confused with the numbers, so allow me to explain, and yes, I will post this at the beginning of the story to for new readers (:

_I usually put the numbers next to a sentence, or paragraph that could have a little more explanation on my part but doesn't need to interupt the story. So, when you're done reading, or if you're just dying to know, the bottom will link up with the number._

**Once more, I thank everyone who reviews! It really motivates me! Keep it up and I'll keep up the writing!**

**Craig:2 Christophe:0**

* * *

"Craig isn't my boyfriend and he won't ever be! Why can't anyone get that through their thick skulls?"

Craig played with the idea of continuing forward, past the open class room door, after hearing Kyle's little rant, or to go the long way to avoid embarrassing the redhead.

He choose the long way, ignoring the cruelty, hanging on to a shred of hope that Kyle could still fall in love with him.

Craig was a cryptic man though.

His logic and reasoning told him that a fairy tale ending would be impossible but his heart and hormones ached for some sort of miracle.

"Bonjour."

"What?"

A tan, tall boy whom Craig was unfamiliar with walked up with confidence and grace that was so rare it could only belong to a select few people in the world.

"Eet meanz hello, American."

"I get that asshole, what do you want?"

The tan boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, "Smoke?"

The two sat a careful distance from each other, hiding at the back of the school as to not get caught skipping class more than smoking.

"My name iz Christophe."

"Craig."

The two took a moment of silence for the awkward air that surrounded them.

"You hang out wiz Kyle, oui?"

"What's it to you?"

This was going to be more difficult then Christophe imagined.

"What, Kyle not allowed to have friendz other zen you?"

Craig was silent once more, but this time it was more out of anger.

"Okay, yeah, I hang out with him. We're best friends."

"What iz he like?"

Without missing a beat he answered, "Kyle is a complicated ball of emotions. He throws the biggest bitch fits anyone has ever seen and always makes sure to get his way. Precisely his way. He fights for everything he believes in with a passion so much so you almost want to strangle him when he gets carried away."

Craig took a quick drag of the Camel before continuing,

"But even though he drives you up the wall, he knows just what to say to make you happy again. He's comforting in every aspect of the word. He's always right there when you need him, and when you don't. He's the moral compass everyone should have, he's the friend everyone deserves. He's Kyle."

Craig shrugged, expecting Christophe to say something.

"His favorite color is green, and has been since we were kids. His favorite animal is a clown fish, and even though I've tried to argue it's not an animal, he still adores the damn things. He's got a little brother whom he loves to say he hates but to Kyle, Ike could do nothing wrong.

"He follows his mother blindly and she him. It would be a circle if it wasn't for outside influences. He wants to go to Yale and be a heart surgeon. I think he could do it, he is after all a genius."

"It zoundz az if you are in love wiz 'em."

Without thinking about what he was saying, Craig nodded.

"I am."

"Understandable, American. Au revoir."

* * *

"Hey Tucker!"

"Broflovski."

"Still coming over tonight?"

"Yeah."

"Don't forget Ruby, 'kay?"

Kyle and Craig walked to the parking lot, not going any further in exchanging words.

And even if they were going to exchange words, it was to be stopped immediately when the ginger saw his hood of his Volkswagen.

A bouquet of a dozen emerald roses (1) sat idly in between the windshield wiper and the glass.

Kyle's first reaction wasn't a squeal of delight but more of a groan.

"Let me guess, wrong car?"

With a quick yank, he pulled them out and inspected them for a moment before under covering a white card and on it was the neatest cursive he had ever seen.

The words read:

_'Shall I compare thee to a Summer's day, Kyle Broflovski?_

_Thou art more lovely and more temperate:_

_Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,_

_And Summer's lease hath all too short a date:_

_Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,_

_And oft' is his gold complexion dimm'd;_

_And every fair from fair sometime declines,_

_By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd:_

_But thy eternal Summer shall not fade_

_Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;_

_Nor shall Death brag thou wanderest in his shade,_

_When in eternal lines to time thou growest:_

_So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,_

_So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.'_

"Shakespeare?" Craig mumbled over Kyle's shoulder, reading it without really. He was more searching for a name of the gifter but found none.

"Cartman! Fifty bucks says it's Cartman! He's planning something… You need a ride?"

"I-uh, yeah."

"Okay, let me go find Kenny. It'll just be a moment."

Craig stared ahead, hardly paying attention to his environment until he saw a black townie car (2) tinted so outsiders couldn't see with in it pull up in front of him.

The driver's window rolled down and Christophe was sitting there with a smug look.

"I alwayz get what I want and I want Kyle, American. So, let ze games begin, oui?"

* * *

"Play nice now Ike, and don't close your bedroom door! I swear to god I'll know!"

Ruby couldn't say she was to upset with leaving home to hang out with the youngest Broflovski while her brother and his did their own thing.

If anything she was delighted to be away from her dad and mom.

"So, what do you-"

"I think your brother is the catcher."

Ruby plopped down on the messy bed, picking up a Rubik cube.

"I know my brother is the catcher. I've walked in on them more than once."

"Are they, you know, together?"

"I don't think so. They don't do anything in the holding hands department."

Ike felt slightly irritated that his almost solved block was now a complete mess and he knew that it was going to take hours to fix it.

"I like Kyle, he's really sweet and he makes my brother happy. He brings me little things and tries to include me in most of their activities. But my brother isn't gay so-"

Ruby stood up abruptly and shoved Ike into the wall, "Don't ever make an accusation that he's slept with your brother because he hasn't! He likes girls! I know! He would tell me if he was gay you little weasel. He loves me! I'm **_his_** princess."

* * *

"Why did you keep those things if they're from Cartman?" Craig's head was resting in Kyle's lap as the younger one drifted his fingers through the straight black locks.

"I like 'em"

A man on the video game was shot down by Craig with perfect timing that could only be achieved through years of staring blankly at a TV screen.

"Your hair is fucking soft dude."

"Brother, Kyle! Ike called me a bitch and then shoved me!" Bursting into the room like a child instead of a fifteen year old girl, the strawberry blonde had tears dripping from her blue eyes.

"She was insulting-"

"Ike Moisha Broflovski I'm going to kick your little ass! How **_dare_** you do that, say that, to Ruby!"

"But Kyle she-!"

"Go sit in mom and dad's room until they get back."(3)

"I'm not a-"

"**_Ike_**!"

"Fine! Your sister is a fucking nutcase Craig!"

With that Kyle stood and chased his brother with the attention of beating him some sense but the Canadian was faster, thus making it to his parent's bedroom unharmed.

"Are you okay, Ruby?"

She sniveled before nodding, tears once more on the break of pouring freely from her eyes.

"Do you want to stay with us? We could play video games and have some ice cream if you want."

"Thank you Kyle, you're so nice to me." She wrapped her small arms around the Jew, feeling triumphant in the success of her plan.

* * *

Christophe was in the usual, grimy, dark bar that Gregory and he would meet up at, only this time the Brit wasn't invited.

The bar tender whom was always the same man, walked up to the Frenchman.

"Can I get ya anything else?"

Christophe looked down at his empty glass bottle that once contained beer.

"How do you woo someone who iz already taken?"

"That's a simple one shrimp, just out do the other man. He buys her a rose, you buy her a dozen and a box of chocolates with a card that expresses all the undying love shit women love to hear."

"Merci. Whiskey would be nice."

* * *

**Don't forget to vote people!**

**For everyone's record though, I plan on making the next one strictly Christophe's. He's been neglected for 3 chapters now.**

_**(1) Emerald roses are rare green roses, duh. Some say that they are the rarest of them all. If you ever see one it's got mixes of yellows and oranges in it as well.**_

_**(2) Black townie cars=The most obvious villan cars**_

_**(3) My brother would always send me to my parents room when I was younger, that way when they got home and went to their room they would already be mad at me for not having permission to be in there. Double the punishment.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**I'm sorry I haven't updated, I had a bit of a mental breakdown due to Holiday stress. But I'm back!**_

_**Thank you to everyone who voted and commented. It really cheers me up!**_

_**I'm also sorry this isn't Holiday themed :'[**_

**Craig:3 Christophe:2**

* * *

Fifteen minutes to midnight and Ike was awake.

It wasn't uncommon for the eleven year old boy, he was a diagnosed insomniac. (1)

Still, the long night hours always creped by with a slow speed that challenged a slugs.

He considered taking his medicine, but the side effects would be worse than a night without sleep.

A quiet thump from his bathroom, barely audible but still there, gave him a reason to stand up and stretch his muscles, something he was grateful for.

It could be his father, coming home without Sheila trailing, falling into an open window because he was too drunk to look under the mat for the key.

"Dad?"

Ike flipped the switch to his left to illuminate the room.

"I hope not."

A tall, tan man, built like a boxer, was standing in front of the Canadian with a look of amusement.

"Iz this the Broflovski house? I'm looking for Kyle."

"Yeah, two doors down, Romeo."

The intruder turned around to the window again, readying himself to crawl back out.

"Dude, my parents are gone. Go through the door."

Ike, not caring what his brother's friend did, returned to his dark room and lay back down on his bed.

"Try some musec. Eet always putz me to sleep."

"Thanks."

* * *

"_The mayor of South Park only had this to say_,"

Kyle slapped his alarm, already reviewing the day's assignments in his head that needed to be turned in or worked on.

He fished a white v-neck and gray jeans from his well organized closet and headed to the inconvenient bathroom at the other end of the house.

It was out of his way and a whole lot smaller but his brother never barged in, demanding that he needed to pee while Kyle was trying to get his unruly hair to work with him.

Setting his clothes on the closed toilet seat, he turned to the sink, grabbing his tooth brush.

Reaching up into the medicine cabinet he discovered a yellow sticky note on his reflection's forehead.

_'Kyle-_

_A coffee shop on the corner of_

_Monroe Street_

_Is where I wait._

_Be there before noon.'_

_

* * *

"Kenny?"_

"Who else?"

"You're going to have to hitch a ride with Craig or Wendy and Babe. I'm not feeling up to going to school today."

"I could stay behind and keep an eye on you if ya like."

"That's alright, Ken. Go ahead without me, I'll be fine. It's just 24 hour flu."

"Okay, take care of yourself. See you at school tomorrow."

"Yeah, bye."

After jumping in the shower, Kyle dried and dressed in his previously mentioned outfit and tossed chemicals throughout his curls to keep it in ringlets (2).

* * *

"Oh, G' Morning boys."

"Good morning." Filmore, Quaid, and Georgie (!3!) all greeted the older Broflovski brother in harmony, obviously awaiting Ike's arrival.

Each was decorated in chains hanging from their pants, black eyeliner, and dark hair.

"Coffee?"

Georgie nodded while the others politely refused.

Kyle filled the maker with grounds and water for the little goth.

"If you like I can give you all a ride, you know."

Filmore rocked his chair, leaning in it so the back two legs were the only ones on the ground, "Thanks but we're fi-"

"You're too nice, Kyle. We'd appreciate it." Quaid smiled slyly at Filmore as he glared, unimpressed.

"Creamer, Georgie?"

"Milk if you have it. Just enough to cool it down."

Kyle put the drink together in a dark, metal thermal so that the boy could carry it to school with him.

"Feel free to come over whenever you boys want. I can drive you wherever to."

"Thanks, Kyle."

"See ya Ky."

"Bye."

"Thanks bro."

After watching the four of them jog up to the steps, shoving and laughing at each other, he pulled out, careful of the kids filing into school.

* * *

Christophe was leaning against his limited-edition VRSCX (4) when he seen Kyle's ruby red vehicle pull in.

The Jew stepped out nervously, fiddling with his zipper on the striped green and blue coat.

Before he managed to step in the peach painted building though, calloused hands reached from behind him, covering the brown eyes from discovering their captor and admirer with a thick, cotton strip of fabric.

"I won't hurt you Kyle, trust me." Christophe covered his accent the best he could and directed Kyle into the Coffee shop and into a booth.

"When can I take this off?" The redhead crossed his arms, irritated and slightly embarrassed with his current situation.

"When we are done, of course."

"What can I get you boys?" A short, chubby woman in her late fifties, not bothering to pull out a tab to keep track of their orders due to years of experience in the field, approached them with a friendly enough smile.

"Iced caramel mocha, whole." Kyle didn't have to think about his order, he knew what he wanted.

"Black coffee. And get a straw for my friend here, will you?"

"Sure thing. Just a moment."

Kyle reached for his zipper once more, catching Christophe's attention to the habit.

"How did you know I used the smaller bathroom and not the other?"

"Bigger one was missing hair products."

The silence was interrupted with a soft pat indicating that the drinks arrived.

"Merci."

"Merci?"

"It means thank you."

"I know that! It's just… strange for you to say."

Christophe, sensing danger, leaned forward and grabbed Kyle's straw, "Open your mouth."

"What?"

"Open."

Even though his face was burning red and he felt the action was hardly dignifying, he obliged.

* * *

Hours passed and noon came and went.

By the time that both were walking out, Kyle was completely relaxed with the stranger.

"Can I take this off yet?"

"Oui."

"Mol-Er, Christophe?"

"Oui."

"I-uh. What-Why, did you take me out?"

And just like that, the Frenchman leaned in, kissing Kyle with such passion it felt as if he swallowed fire and it was traveling down to his toes.

"I like vous Kyle. Let me take you out."

* * *

"Stan, can I come inside?"

Rain was starting to pour from the sky, mixing with the previous snow, turning everything into a slushy mess.

"Sure, dude."

Kyle was soaked, leaving the football star to believe he sat out there for awhile before gathering the courage to knock.

"I need your advice. I know we don't really talk anymore, but anyone I hang out with will all tell me the same thing."

Stan disappeared around a corner before grabbing a towel, "Here, dry off. Its fine, we may not talk too often but you're still a friend. Want to sit down?"

"I don't know what to do, Stan. I think I'm in love."

"So, what's the problem?"

Taking a deep breath, Kyle answered.

"We known him when we were kids, and then I thought he was a psycho, but he showed up the other day and I've seen him twice since then. Each time I see him though I feel so, happy. I feel ways I never felt before. And when he's not there in person he's always in my mind."

Stan, even though he knew his ex-best friend was gay, still found the conversation slightly awkward beyond his cucumber cool attitude.

"I'm still-"

"Hold, on there's more. Everyone thinks Craig and I should be together. He's loved me since forever, and he's always been so kind and patient. I don't feel the spark I feel with the mol-Er, the other guy though, but I do feel love. Oh god, what do I do, Stan? And don't tell me to go with my heart and all that bull shit!"

"I wasn't planning on it. But your question has a simple answer, Ky."

* * *

_Advice from womanizer Stan?_

_Where could Kyle go wrong?_

_Sorry that the chapter was all over the place._

_I feel as if my stress shows in my writing ^.^'_

_**=3 Remember to vote on which couple you would rather see.**__** I'm getting close to just making the couple on the information part Craig instread of Christophe seeing how people much rather see him.**_

**(1) Insomnia is a sleeping disorder where a person won't be able to sleep for a long period of time, it's very hard and annoying to live with if you are against taking something for it.**

**(2) Anyone who has natural curly hair like myself will agree with me when I say, it is _HARD_ to work with. I spend atleast an hour to two in the morning perfecting and protecting my curls.**

**(!3!) I stress this one more then the others for you to pay attention to because the characters are going to be showing up several times throughtout the story. Filmore is the cryptic kid that Ike runs against to be president of his class. Quaid is his little follower with curly black hair. Georgie is the kindergoth who hangs out with the older goth kids. All are real characters in the show. I don't like OC's.**

**(4) The limited-edition VRSCX is a harley davidson motorcycle that looks and sounds amazing. I'll post an image of it on my profile for anyone intreseted in what it looks like.**


	5. Chapter 5

**WARNING: Next chapter is going to put the story on a much eviler base due to Christophe's rise. So! I hate to do this, but I'm going to have to change the rating to M.**

_Sorry about not updating yesterday, but Christmas called. I should update in the next 12 or so hours though._

_**This is my shortest chapter because I couldn't add the details of Stan and Christophe without changing the rating, and I wanted to warn people of the soon to be changes before jumping into it.**  
_

**Craig:3 Christophe:3**

**It's a tie!**

**I wonder who will break it? =3**

* * *

Kyle left Stan's house in a rush.

He should have known better then to have trusted him but he went over anyways, pouring his problems out to the football hero, his ex-best friend.

Who knew it would have turned out that way?

Regret stung at him like the rain hitting his skin so sharply.

"Kyle! Where have you been? I got a call from the school saying you didn't show up so don't use the 'I was studying' card on me young man!"

"For god's sake Kyle, it's nearly ten! You couldn't have called and checked in."

"Your father's right, you should have called!"

The two adults, so wrapped up in scolding, didn't notice their other son.

"Shut up!"

"Ike!"

Dressed in only boxer shorts and a chained necklace that Kyle bought him at the South Park mall, the youngest Broflovski stormed down from the steps where he was watching his family.

"Look at him!"

The big brown eyes that normally sparkled were red rimmed, glazed over, and blood shot. His clothes usually so neatly worn and kept had rips and holes in them with specks of blood scattered throughout his soaked body along with fresh bruises.

Ike grabbed his brother's hand before his parents could say anything that would further distress him, and led Kyle to his bedroom.

Instantly the redhead collapsed on the bed, letting his sore legs dangle off.

"Just a second."

Sheila and Gerald could be heard from downstairs, fretting over their son the way they do.

"Ky? Can you take off your pants and shirt?"

Ike set a box with a red cross down on the wooden nightstand, obviously preparing to patch him up.

But Kyle didn't move despite the gentle words, instead he rolled over on his side, turning his body away from his brother.

Sensing he wasn't going to do any listening anytime soon, Ike crawled onto the plush bed as well, staring blankly at the ceiling.

* * *

"Hello?"

"Ike?"

"Yeah."

"This is Craig, is Kyle there?"

Silence.

"He can't talk."

"Is he sick or something? He didn't call me or Kenny this morning."

"I don't really know. He came home last night all beat up and hasn't done anything but cry."

"Can I come over? I want to see him."

"You'll just cause him to freak out more. He hardly lets even me sit next to him."

"It's okay, I can handle it, trust me."

Silence once more.

"I'm sorry, I don't think it would be to wise. Try later okay?"

"Wait! Ik-"

Craig kicked the metal frame of his bed, only causing a sharp pain to emit from his now broken big toe.

"Screw it."

Ignoring the warning, he slipped on his shoes, trying his best to forget about the throbbing pain, and grabbed his mom's car keys.

Not like she would notice, Mrs. And Mr. Tucker were too busy yelling at each other to see that their daughter was missing and their son stealing the Honda's key.

* * *

"Hello?"

"Bonjour, is Kyle there?"

"He can't talk right now, he's uh, busy."

"Non? I'll talk to 'em later zen. Merci, au revoir."

Hanging up his cell phone, Christophe flicked his cigarette into the neighboring yard, watching it burn out before scurrying up the wall, just to be sure a certain redhead was indeed as his brother said, 'busy'.

"Kyle?"

The ginger was sitting in the corner of his room, in-between his wooden computer desk and book shelf full of famous literature.

"Ch-ris-tophe?" The name came out in sobs.

"Who did thiz to vous?"

The colors of beatings, glorious in blacks, blues, and yellows all but shone off of the white skin.

Tears started falling from the soft brown eyes, but they did so silently.

Christophe picked Kyle up, wrapping the shaky legs around his abdomen, and sat on the unmade bed.

"Tell me what happened, mon cher."

The Frenchman wiped the salt water from the porcelain skin with his bandaged hands carefully.

"I hate South Park. I want… need to move."

Kyle buried his wet face into Christophe's neck, taking a deep breath.

"Tell me what happened."

* * *

"Craig, I thought I told you that Kyle can't see anyone right now."

Ike had his thin arms crossed over his young chest, looking imposing to a degree, but not enough that the eighteen year old was threatened.

"Move or I'll tell your parents about you and Georgie and your plans for skipping college to elope and become travelers in Europe with the Harvard fund your mom set up."

"He-he's in his room."

Craig, snickering trotted lightly up the blue carpeted stairs.

* * *

"Oh mon cher, I'll protect vous."

Christophe lifted the heart-shaped (1) face to his own and leaned in to kiss the ginger in comfort when their moment was simultaneously interrupted with the door creaking open.

"Ky-Kyle…"

"Craig!"

The Frenchman coughed to signify his presence, "Ah, bonjour Tucker."

"Wait, Craig!"

"Mon cher, stop. Vous must choose. Him or me. I can offer you anyzhing Kyle. Money ez no problem. I will make vous 'appy in wayz Tucker can not. I will love vous in wayz Tucker can not. I can protect vous… in wayz Tucker can not."

Christophe lifted Kyle's hand, kissing his long fingers gently.

"I can't… he's my best friend!"

"Zen let him run. If he'z not your lover, only your friend, let 'im run."

And just like that, Kyle sat back down on the Frenchman's lap.

* * *

"Bonjour Gregory."

Whispering to not wake the emotionally and physically exhausted ginger, Christophe sat at the swiveling black desk chair with his sleek cell phone resting on his ear.

"Oui, it turned out fine. I have something for vous to zet up for me.

"Non, I want vous to rid of a rat harming ze people of South Park.

"Non, not Billy Miller (2) you fucking idiot

"Stan Marsh. Oui. I want 'im gone by ze end of ze night.

"Oui, I know I hired 'im. Now I want hiz breazhing to cease.

"Oui, merci Gregory."

* * *

**Don't forget to vote to break the tie people!**

**(1) Yes, Kyle has a heart shaped face in the show. It also says he has his mom's nose D:**

**(2)Billy Miller is the chicken trafficking kingpin in episode "Medical Fried Chicken" In my eyes he would grow up to work in the line of drugs along with, Loogie, the ten year old stereotypical mafia boy who ran the teeth stealing business, and Christophe because of his criminal record.  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**Warning! Chapters are about to be labeled M! Please keep in mind!**

_Thank you for the French lessons (you know who you are) I, personally, don't know the language and been wondering when some of my readers who did know would be pointing out the mistakes. I've been getting everything from my brother who hasn't been in a classroom for seven years =3 So, I really appreciate it._

I feel bad because this one mostly focuses on Craig once more, but** it's hard to write a weekday chapter with Christophe when he doesn't go to school** D:

So the next one is going to be all, with only a mention of Craig's current home life, Christophe's.

**Craig:5 Christophe:6**

** An anonymous reviewer broke the tie with a vote for Christophe! The bits with Tweek and Craig are for her because of it =3  
**

* * *

"I'm going to school, mom. I swear I'll be fine!"

"But-!"

"Sheila, you heard the boy! He'll hold himself up alright."

"Gerald, don't you argue with me!"

"Don't worry Mrs. Broflovski, we'll keep an eye on him." Filmore smiled his best politic, baby kissing, suck up smile and pretended to shove Kyle, as to not hurt his sore body any further.

Sheila didn't look too reassured, but went with it anyways, forgetting the fact that the mix of boys were just making their way into junior high.

"I promise we'll take good care of him." Georgie and the older woman stared down for a moment before she sighed with defeat.

"Okay, but until you tell us what happened you don't get you vw's keys, do you understand me Kyle?" After burying her son in her rolls of fat, squishing the oxygen out of his lungs, she shoed the set of onlookers off murmuring quiet thoughts to her husband who continued to read the South Park news paper.

* * *

Kyle, resting his thumbs on the straps of his backpack, drifted in and out of the conversations taking place around him.

"Ky, you want us to walk you the rest of the way?"

"And risk getting shit for the rest of the school year from Cartman? Dude, don't make me repeat 'I'll be fine' another twenty times. Have fun, frolic in graveyards, confront conformists, do all those things you goth kiddies do."(1)

"Har har, Broflovski, very funny!"

"Yeah, where we suppose to get a graveyard at school?"

"Shut the fuck up Quaid."

"You make us look like ass holes."

"See ya, Broflovski."

"Bye, Ky."

"See you."

"I'll be waiting outside after school's over okay?"

"I don't need a babysitter Ike."

"But I do." The four, with identical faces of idiocy, wandered up to the school, leaving a dumbfounded redhead staring where they all once stood.

* * *

"Want a ride?" Bruno(2), leaning out of his inherited white hybrid, waved Kyle over.

Bruno had always been a bit of an outcast, hanging out with kids that had little status to the popular kids.

"Sure, thanks."

"No problem."

"What are you doing at the middle school? You don't have any younger siblings do you?"

Kyle threw his bag behind the passenger seat and buckled in.

"Nah, I live right around the corner."

"Ah."

Studying Bruno from the corner of his eye, Kyle was hit with realization that the kid he once knew was actually decent looking now that he had grown, for a complete social freak.

His once misshaped plain brown hair was spiked and colored a toxic green at the tips and his blue eyes looked livelier along with his new do.

Bruno was dressed in a grunge, punk fashion with ripped deep blue jeans on the edge of being a faded black and a'WhiteChapel' shirt with the occasional hole, all which really seemed to fit him.

"Staring isn't nice."

"Sorry, dude, I just feel like I haven't looked at you in years."

Laughing, Bruno flashed the sloppy, sideways smile in Kyle's direction.

"I doubt you have."

In one swift move, the hybrid was parked perfectly in between Token's new convertible and an old junker that most likely belonged to Tweek.

"Holy shit dude! Where did you learn to drive like that?"

"Tokyo Drift."(3)

* * *

"Hey, Kenny."

"Kyle? Goddamnit! You could have told me you were going to school today. I wouldn't have hitched a ride with PMSing Tucker. Eh? What's wrong? You look pale all of a sudden."

"I uhm, just realized something. Have you seen Stan yet?"

"Why do you want to talk to the master douche?"

"I don't!"

"Then why ask about him?"

"I.. It's nothing. Come on, let's go get breakfast. Don't fret, it's my treat."

"Awh, you're my best friend Kylie! You're so huggable, you're rapeable!"

Wincing at the last word, but trying to blow it off as nothing, Kyle mumbled a whatever and continued to the lunchroom.

"We're not going to find Craig and his cotton pony?"

"No."

"Wow, that's a first. Let me guess, you guys are fighting because you're tired of being on bottom?"

"Kenny, just keep your mouth shut or so full of food that I can't understand what you're saying."

"Sir!"

* * *

By the time lunch finally rolled around, Craig seemed to calm himself enough to sit at the table with Kenny and Kyle, though, his disappointment and anger was completely obvious even to the most oblivious idiot.

And when it came down to it, he didn't tiptoe around any conversation that involved Christophe, instead he choose to flick lint in Tweek's general direction whenever anything French was brought up, no matter how innocent.

The blonde teen didn't seem to upset about the action, focusing his attention on his flesh roasting coffee his parents sent to school with him, he acted as if it wasn't happening.

He understood Craig well enough to know that he wasn't in the best of moods.

Thomas on the other hand wasn't entertained by the raining balls of fabric landing in his food and hair.

The only reason he wasn't freaking out was because of Tweek, who would only cause a world of hurt for him.

"You're seriously pissing off Tommy over there."

"You mean Thomas, Kenny?"

"That's what I said… Tommy."

Craig growled and sent another piece of his coat's innards to be with the others.

"Who the fuck cares?"

"And Craig climbs back onto his cotton horse…"

"Stop being such a dick! What's your problem anyways?"

"And Kyle joins him…"

"My problem?"

"And the race is off!"

"Yes, your problem, Tucker!"

"And so is Kenny!"

"You, Kyle, are my problem!"

"I'll be seeing you guys later, when you aren't trying to see who's the worse friend."

"If I'm your problem why are you sitting with me?"

"Fuck you, Broflovski." Craig stood quickly, sending his chair backwards, and left in a quick huff.

"No! Fuck you Tucker!"

* * *

Kyle was cleaning and organizing his already perfect room out of blind rage with a worried Wendy.

It had been hours since school had gotten out.

The sun was down and Kyle's fury at an all time high.

Ike was watching amused at what he deemed a soap opera, with a half empty bowl of popcorn and an empty pop can, due to having nothing better to procrastinate his homework with.

"I should call him up and give him a piece of my mind!"

Wendy continued putting the old records in alphabetical order according to year, trying to let her friend vent.

"Yeah you go girl!"

"Ike! Get _out_ of my room!"

"Oh no you didn't!"

_**"IKE!"**_

"Jeez, don't have to tell the neighbors."

Kyle went back to his task, glad to be rid of his brother, though it didn't show with his shoving books with a force that it was shaking the stand.

"Hey, Ky."

"What Wendy? What could it possibly be this time? You want to blame your shitty life on me to? Hm? Perhaps global-fucking-warming?"

"Uhm, no, I-uh…your cell is ringing."

"Oh."

Scrambling to get up on his numb legs, Kyle reached for the device that was charging in the wall, and not remembering that it was, ripped the socket.

"Shit!"

"Bad timing mon cher?"

"Christophe!"

"Who else that ez French that you were awaiting a call from?"

Kyle dropped down to his carpet, feeling a fresh round of waterworks springing onto him.

"Kyle? Are you crying? Mon cher?"

"How did you get my number?"

"Ike."

"Figures."

"Get ready, I'm going to take vous out tonight. Dre'z warm. I'll be there in fifteen minutez."

"Chri-"

Wendy, feeling something was amiss, choked out a hushed goodbye and started gathering her things up hesitantly before the ginger would notice her leaving.

"Thanks, Wends. You're a good friend."

"No problamo Kylie. I'll see you tomorrow, alright?" Bending down, she placed a quick kiss on Kyle's forehead.

"Yeah." But the female activist was already out the door, leaving the word lingering for no one to hear except Ike, eavesdropping from the closet next to Kyle's room with the vacuum cleaner jabbing him in the ribs.

But Kyle was too involved in himself to scold his little brother.

Not knowing what warm meant, or just how warm he had to be, he dressed in a cotton shirt with a red hoodie and light blue jeans.

And after he felt adequate, Kyle sat down, cross legged, and pulled out '_**The Portrait of a Lady**_' by Henry James(4) and read a few pages before getting slightly antsy.

He had just re-met Christophe! What was he thinking!

He could be a psycho killer obsessed with him and already bent on killing Kyle's enemies!

Kyle giggled at the last part; Stan begging for mercy from his captor instead of the other way around.

Okay, time to be serious!

What if Christophe was involved with people that would easily hunt and gun him down?

He could see it now, especially with the fresh memory of being held gun point that taken place not that long ago.

Picturing the dazzling brown eyes of the mysterious Frenchman for a moment, Kyle realized there was no way he was that kind of person.

Almost as if in by cue, a tap emitted from the window and from across the room he could see the red light at the end of the cigarette dangling from smiling lips.

* * *

"I am so not getting on that."

"Don't be a pussy, Kyle. Climb on."

"No way, dude!"

The black motorcycle looked like death on two wheels.

"Fine zen. I will just leave you 'ere."

"Not cool."

"Zen get on."

Kyle willed his body forward, keeping his arms crossed, and threw a leg over the side before throwing it back off, retreating to the original spot he had been standing at.

"Mon cher, I will protect you. Now get ze fuck on before my nipplez freeze off."

Once more, he approached the bike, and after a moment of silent debating between his intelligent side and his 'manly' side, he sat back on.

Just to make sure he wouldn't get off, Christophe lightly pressed the pedal, just about sentencing Kyle to the cold ground.

"What the fuck!"

"Did I forget to mention to hang on?"

"Yes!"

"Hang on."

"Wait!"

"Oui?"

"If I die, I want my brother to get nothing."

"Noted, mon cher."

* * *

**Have an idea what had taken place between Stan and Kyle? Guesses are fun! I'd love to hear them from everyone!**

:O _I don't hate Stan_ for everyone's information. I just detest him with passion that challenges Sheila's.

**Don't forget to vote.** I feel like a robot repeating that!

**(1) I know this isn't what goth kids do. Please, don't flame me for the joke, _it's a joke_.**

**(2) Bruno is in the TV series**, **as I have stated, I hate OCs. He's in episodes Chinpokomon and Cartmans Silly Hate Crime 2000, sitting in juvenile hall with Cartman. I don't plan on making him show up again unless I get any requests for the kid, I just needed someone to pick Kyle up from the streets.**

**(3) Tokyo Drift has a much longer name, but it's a racing game that's quite famous. Even I, a strict RPG gamer, have it for my ps2.**

**(4) Very famous, very old, book. If you're into 1800's literature I suggest it to you my friend.  
**


	7. Chapter 7

_**Sorry about the slow updating, but my two nephews, both under the age of five, have been staying over which makes writing fifty times more harder then it should be.**_

**Another tie! I wonder who will break it this time =3**

**Craig:8 Christophe:8**

* * *

"You're kidding, right? You took me to a hotel? And a sleazy one at that. I'm sure if I sat down somewhere I'd get AIDs"

The tall building was chipping red paint, and their vacant sign's N repeatedly flashed on and off, something that looked like it was off of a cheesy horror movie and working woman(1) sat out around the doors, winking at Christophe and Kyle, one even boldly stated that she was into threesomes and didn't charge extra.

"Okay, take me home."

"We aren't here to fuck so calm down, mon cher."

Kyle's face turned a pretty red, stopping he folded his arms over his chest.

"Then what are we here for?"

"Come on, stop pouting."

"No! Tell me."

"Non."

Like a kid being denied candy in a store, the ginger threw himself down on the ground next to a lady who was smoking what looked like an imported cigarette, with dyed bleach-blonde hair and boobs two times their natural size.

"Kyle."

"No!"

"Awh, leave the poor baby alone."

"Yeah, Christophe, stop terrorizing me! Can I have one of those?"

"Sure thing, sweetie."

"Up, now."

"No, you're not the boss of me! Thanks."

"You're welcome, sugar."

Kyle leaned in and let her light the brown cancer-stick, but before he could put it between his parted lips, Christophe grabbed it and stomped on it with his muddy combat boots.

"Tell me why we're here if not to fuck."

The blonde's face dropped at the news of not having herself a customer, so she stood, walking down to the street in her dangerously high shoes.

The Frenchman, not taking any more of the childish behavior, stooped down and lifted his date bridal style, shocking him into silence, and continued on as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

"Dude, I can walk."

"Non, you proved to me you can't not even five minutez ago, mon cher."

Christophe entered the lobby, nodding at a young woman who was looking at Kyle with dreamy, envious eyes, and pressed the up button on the elevator.

"What do you keep calling me?"

"What, mon cher?"

"Yeah."

"Look it up."

Christophe pressed another button Kyle didn't catch and placing him carefully back on his feet, he stated simply, "I'm going to cover your eyez, I want eet to be a z'uprise. So non kicking and screaming and pouting, oui?"

The Jew's soft eyes suddenly got cloaked from viewing the word, most likely by the same piece that did so not that long ago.

"I will help you navigate so as you don't hit any wallz."

Feeling his face warm up with the strong arms wrapping themselves with no caution around his small, bony shoulders, Kyle was led into a direction that he knew nothing about.

After what felt like ever, but was really a few minutes top, Christophe mumbled to take the blind off.

"Oh…"

They were on the roof which wasn't lit up with any lights, and a dinner table wasn't waiting there with an English waiter to serve them like off of all the romantic movies.

No, instead there was a wool blanket, stretched out to its full length, and another sitting on top of it.

"To cheep to purchase a room?"

Laughing, Christophe grabbed Kyle's icy hand and directed him to sit on the gooshy square.

"I thought zat we could look at ze starz and perhapz get to know each other better. But, if you would like, I could alwayz go back down ze stairz and buy a room for us to play around in."

"This is… thank you, Christophe."

"Ah, eet ez no problem, mon cher."

They settled down under the blanket, and after a few hours of lying uncomfortably Kyle ended up resting his curly head on the Frenchman's chest, who in response wrapped his arms around him.

They occasionally shared words, but mostly they stared to the star studded sky.

"Hey… 'Tophe?"

"'Tophe?"

"Precisely what I said. Why aren't you ever at school?"

Not having to think about the answer due to talking it over with a few of his workers, Christophe answered quickly.

"Do vous want the truth, mon cher?"

"Duh, dude."

"I'm ze kingpin of one of ze three biggest drug trafficking businesses in ze statez of Colorado, Utah, and Wyoming and ze work often keepz me at bay."

Kyle's face scrunched up with disbelief.

"No seriously."

"I am being quite z'erious mon cher."

"Then why go to school if you're a drug lord?"

"My muzzar back in France would fly here on her harpy wingz and twi'zt my ballz off if she found I dropped out of high school."

Jumping out of the embrace, the ginger abruptly lifted himself from the ground and stared with a dropped jaw at the still calm boy, remaining in the same position he left him at.

"Shit dude! I could get my brains blown out for being with you if that's true. Don't fucking joke around."

"But I am not, mon cher. And believe me, you have enough people guarding you at ze moment that you won't ever have to agonize over eet."

"What!"

"Oui, I've hired people to protect vous. Your friend Bruno being one of zem."

"What! Oh god! Take me home now!"

"You're freaking out."

"Well wouldn't you!"

"Non. Relax and I will explain every'zhing to you."

Grudgingly, Kyle placed himself back next to the supposedly kingpin, and listened to him give the details of getting into his line of work by Gregory and how hard it would be to get out now due to all of the people willing to put him six feet under with a slab of cement on top.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because mon cher, I want vous to be a part of my life, and if zat ez to be true, you must know ze danger. Come now, eet ez past your bedtime."

The rest of their time together was wordless, but it's not like they could talk much over the roar of Christophe's motorcycle and when they stopped, Kyle got off soundlessly.

"Mon cher, I like vous. Give the idea of us being together a chance."

Nodding, but still saying nothing, the ginger walked down the street to his dark home, surveying the whole night in his head.

* * *

"You son of a bitch! Don't you hit my son!"

Craig lay groaning on the cold, dirty tiled floor of his kitchen, nose bleeding profusely over his paled face.

His mom was defending him, but not doing anything really successful to stop her husband from his rampage.

"Your son is a fucking faggot!"

"At least he's not some freaky, spoiled brat who's obsessed with having sex with his sibling!"

"Don't you insult my beautiful, perfect daughter! She has nothing to do with this!"

Craig ripped a towel from a knob on one of the cabinets, and pressed it firmly on his nostrils before standing up with ease.

"Where do you think you're going? Get back here so we can discuss your sudden realization of your love to ram ass!"

"Let him go, Thomas!"

"Why, so he can run over to his little butt-buddy Kyle's house?"

"Just leave him alone you fat bastard!"

"Don't you talk to me that way, Lily(2)!"

"I'm going to Kenny's."

"Or what? What are you going to do? Break my nose to, hm?"

"I'll see you two later. And keep an eye on Ruby, she's been getting into the liquor lately, I don't want her kidneys to shut down before she graduates."

"I just fucking might!"

"Yeah, love you guys to."

* * *

**Vote for who you would like to see win, and if you insert your favorite SP couple, (_that doesn't involve Stan_) and are the first person to break the tie, I just might hint at them in the next chapter.**

**(1) A working woman is a prostitute, I just thought it might be a little to rude to just throw the word prostitute out there.**

**(2) Mrs. Tucker actually doesn't have a first name so I made it up.**

**P.S. I'm sorry if Christophe seems a little OOC but I picture him a bit of a dry kind of romantic.**


	8. Chapter 8

_**Craig:16 Christophe:9**_

_**Yay for updating seeing how I haven't in FOREVER!**_

_**This chapter is going to be slightly different due to my anger and giddiness mashing together.**_

_**This chapter is focused completely on Georgie, Kyle, Kenny, and Craig. No mention of Christophe anywhere!  
**_

_**But, I'm going to start this off with thanking reviews and answering a question.**_

_**

* * *

**_**D o u g h**. May I just say thank you for reviewing from the beginning? You were my first reviewer and whenever I see that you've sent another one my way I can't help but feel delighted (:

**C h o c o b o l l o**. Another loyal reviewest! If you actually scroll through the comments you'll see her name at every other one. I'm sorry I'm so mean to Craig! I can't help it seeing how he's already got a relationship with Kyle, but because you've been talking about it so often, I'll stop throwing my angst at him and make this chapter as sweet as possible for you.

**N o v a c a i n e**. Thank you, thank you! I plan on making the ending happy, so don't worry! I wish I could guarantee Christophe winning, but alas, I cannot. I'm sorry.

**M o o n**. I know, I hate Christophe and Gregory too, seeing how typical and boring the two are, but I don't think Tweek and Craig were meant for each other : / I don't know why but I really rebel against the main couples, haha.

**S P F T W**. First off, lol to the name, and a hint to the possible ending of Kyle going with Christophe, what you said is one of my two options for him but I'm leaning more to the other one, it's still there though.

**C r a i g T u c k e r**. Votes Craig! I laughed when I seen that =3 I couldn't help but post this, hehehe.

**A a h h**. :D Haha, I'm sick of people saying that to. Straight haired people just will never understand our hardships **sigh*

_**And thank you to everyone else who has sent in their votes and compliments.**_

_**It's appreciated!  
**_

* * *

"So…"

"I don't want to talk about it Ken, plus it's no big deal."

Craig kicked some of the junk out of his way before sitting down on Kenny's filthy floor that could have used a good vacuuming.

"You showed up to my house instead of Kyle's with a bloody nose, but no, you're right it's nothing to worry about."

"I'm not joking when I say I don't want to talk about it."

"I know dude."

Not really knowing how to approach the situation delicately, Kenny sat down on his bed that once upon a time was his older brother's.

Kevin had moved away so long ago that he barely remembered him ever being home.

The letters even stopped within the first couple months but every now and again a post card from somewhere with lots of sunshine would show up months after the listed date, not really explaining what he was doing, just with his name and well wishes.

"Where's Karen?"

"I don't know, I haven't seen her this week so I'm assuming she's at her boyfriend whatchyamacallem's place."

"You're kidding? She's like, Ike's age! How the fuck does she get away with that?"

"Meh, you know, uncaring, drunk parents."

Craig started picking lent off of himself, a habit he learned to do instead of flipping everyone off when nervous.

What was he doing here?

Kenny and him were anything but friends.

He could have gone to Tweek's house and received more comfort!

In the same breath he knew it had to be here though, Tweek didn't understand abuse like Kenny did.

"I do know."

The blonde wasn't one to avoid talking about something, he was bolder then just about everyone in the school, but he knew the topic of parents was something of a sore spot for Craig.

People talked, and Kenny always listened to gossip in case of finding potential blackmail which led to potential quick cash, and people often whispered behind the Tucker's backs about the horrible things that took place in their home.

It was a lot like his own house from what he heard.

"You wan-"

"No."

"How do you know what I was going to say, I could have been asking if you wanted to make-out!"

"Dude, it would still be a no."

"It's because I'm not a certain Jew, huh?"

"No, it's because I'm sure you have something from all the random fucking you do."

Kenny rolled his icy blue eyes, smiling playfully at his friend.

* * *

It was nearly afternoon before brown eyes opened to flooding light.

Crawling out of the bed and making it quickly, he couldn't feel happier for a couple days off.

"Hey guys."

"Hi Kyle." The three others in a heated discussion ignored the arrival of the redhead, leaving Georgie to greet him alone.

"What are they arguing about now?"

"Politics or something of that nature."

"Ah, I see."

Glad that his mom always left the machine on, Kyle made himself a cup of coffee, with more creamer then the actual drink, while Georgie slipped out of his chair and approached him silently.

"Hey, uhm, Kyle?"

"Jesus dude! Make me jump right out of my skin, why don't you?"

"Sorry."

"It's okay. What's the matter Georgie?"

"I-uh. Could we talk alone for a bit?"

"Sure, want to walk me to Tweek Bros. Coffeehouse for some real drinks? I'll buy."

"Um, alright. Cool."

The whole way there, although it wasn't that far, was irritably silent, with an occasionally loud sigh from the goth.

He seemed to be contemplating saying something but couldn't build up the courage to do so and it was irking Kyle's nerves.

He kept his mouth shut, despite his rage.

'Georgie would say something when ready', he kept repeating inside his head.

Freshly roasted beans taunted the duo with their enticing smells as the distance started to close between the shop and them.

"I didn't know you worked here."

Scott Tenorman(1) was resting against the counter behind him that contained all the equipment, flipping through a guitar magazine when they finally arrived.

"Oh, hi Ky. I just moved back here for a couple months. You know, seeing the parents, keeping in touch with a couple friends…checking up on Eric."

The last one came out in a hiss.

"Yeah."

"What can I get you?"

Despite the oddity of Scott being Cartman's brother, well half brother, he and Kyle remained decent friends, calling each other occasionally.

Kyle was, after all, one of the three people that visited him while he sat in the mental institute.

Mostly because he blamed the fact that Scott's parents wound up dead on himself, but still, he'd show up on days the place would allow him to.

After ordering, a quick bye was exchanged and they two made off with the steaming cups in their hands.

"Who was that?"

"Cartman's brother."

"Oh."

"Okay, Kyle. I'm just going to ask this. And you have to forgive me but you were the only person I knew to come to about this."

Georgie stopped suddenly, shaking with nerves.

"Shoot for it, dude. You know I'm okay with whatever questions you got."

"IWantToHaveSexWithIkeAndIDon'tKnowWhatToDo. Can you help me, please! I won't ever ask for anything ever again from you."

The still untouched drink of Kyle's dropped to the ground with a thud, sending the hot liquid everywhere, causing a loud 'shit' to ring through the frosty air.

"What-What-WHAT!(2) You're way to young, Georgie."

"No, I'm not. Everyone is doing it! Come on, you said you'd be cool with whatever I needed to come to you with when I first started seeing Ike, and Kyle, I don't know anyone else to turn to."

"How about Craig?"

"I don't know Craig that well."

"Kenny."

"Calls me baby Dracula(3) and punches me whenever you leave the room."

"Your mom!"

"I haven't even told her I'm dating Ike!"

"My mom!"

"Would band me for life from your brother's air bubble!"

"Oh god. Fine! Let's start from the beginning, shall we? Come on though, I'm going to need a couple more coffees for this."

* * *

Terrance and Philip reruns were staring on the McCormick TV while Craig and Kenny were slouching down on the beat-up, stained couch.

It was weird for the both of them to be in the same room without Kyle, and after sharing intimate thoughts they wouldn't have ever said out loud to anyone else, it made it terribly awkward for them to even look in the others face without blushing uncontrollably.

Neither regretted the previous night despite the shared humiliation.

Craig felt relieved after complaining about his home life and life-long crush, while Kenny did to only from bitching about his sex life rather than a crush.

"Want to go get something from Tweek's coffeehouse? I'm fucking starving."

The blonde nodded, slipping on his faded orange parka.

He never really rid himself of the color; it was after all, a favorite.

* * *

"I really have to do that?"

"Unless you want to make my brother scream bloody murder and break your jaw, I'd advise it. You could always ask him if he's done it to himself before, but it's still a necessity to do every time."

Georgie wiggled uncomfortably in his seat.

They ended up just taking a booth in a dark corner to discuss the matter.

Scott would occasionally pick up a sentence or two and turn a shade of red that challenged his hairs, but he always kept at his work like nothing was overheard.

"Nah, Ken. I get it from… Kyle?"

"Craig, Kenny? What are you two doing here?"

The newly arrived people made their way to the secluded area and took one look at the permanent look of horror stuck on Georgie's face and quirked an eyebrow.

"Coffee… muffins. What's wrong with him?"

The ginger sipped his overly sweet drink before replying, "He wanted to know how to fuck another guy so I'm teaching him."

Something shattered loudly, after following a loud yelp from Scott.

"I'm fine!"

"Why couldn't you just let him learn the old fashion way like the rest of us, the internet."

"I promised him I would. Since when do you two hang out?"

Kenny snapped his fingers and placed a hand on his hip, "Please! He followed me here!"

Kyle snickered, looking up into his best friend's hard, blue eyes.

"Is that so, Mr. Tucker?"

Craig felt his body light up with hormones so much so that he wished they were alone as the redhead batted his eyelashes with faked innocence.

"Hey Georgie-boy, whatd'ya say you and I grab some food and I can give you the real run down on sex with a dude. And sex with a girl if you'd like. I'm a professional in both departments."

Not waiting for an answer, Kenny grabbed the teen's scrawny arm and made his way to the counter, declaring boisterously that the bill was to go to Butters Scotch, and took his choosing of what pleased him before dragging Georgie out the door.

"Mind if I take a seat?"

"Go for it."

"What happened to your face?"

Kyle reached across the table and stroked the bruise that was taking place near Craig's nose.

He knew who made it appear there, but wanted to hear just to confirm it.

"Dad hit me when I told him I was gay."

"You told him?"

"Yeah."

"You couldn't have waited for me to be there?"

"I can't always wait for you."

A sobering quietness took over them as Craig took the pale hand in his.

"What the fuck did you do to me, Broflovski?"

Startled by the outburst it took Kyle a moment to gather his wits before saying an unrefined "What?"

"I use to be a badass, now I'm some pussy drinking frilly drinks in a coffee shop mid-afternoon."

"Technically it's _**my**_ frilly drink, and if you want my say, I like you better as a pussy then a badass. At least you like me when you're a pussy."

"Hardly."

Kyle's laughter was quickly hushed by a desperate kiss to his lips, as he started to return the favor though, it became more relaxed and practiced.

It wasn't the first time they kissed, but this one seemed different than the others.

"I fucking love you Broflovski. Choose to love me back for once."

* * *

**Yay! Sweetness for the Cryle!**

**Vote vote vote people!**

**Forgive me for the way I make Kenny talk (Messed up in sorts) but I don't picture him not running words together.**

**(1) Scott Tenorman is obviously the star of the episode "Scott Tenorman must die" which is considered the best South Park episode of all time by the writers and fans. He is a ginger kid whose parents get ground up into chili by Cartman, only to find out later that they are actually brothers.**

**(2) Kyle just had to have a Sheila moment there =3 We all know we would to!  
**

**(3) Episode 'The Ungroundable' shows that the goth kids don't like to be considered vampires. YES! I do know my episodes of South Park that well. If you show me a clip from any episode I can generally place it where it belongs and which season it's in.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Alright, it's been forever since I updated and I apologize but this past month I've been really busy.**

**So I've decided to stop the voting for two reasons**

**1) I came up with a fairly decent ending.**

**2) Christophe was failing, _miserably_.**

**So, unless I get more then 5 reviews or PMs about bringing the voting back I won't.**

**Next chapter, which I plan to put up this weekend, will give away what I was planning to do with Craig if Kyle didn't go with him.**

**_BUT_ I'll keep the 5 reviews/PMs to bring the voting back until further notice.**

**Thanks for putting up with my inconsistency and this super short chapter!  
**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"I fucking love you Broflovski. Choose to love me back."

Kyle felt his jaw tighten and his brows knit together with confusion.

"Craig…"

"Don't make me get on my knees and beg."

At those said words, the doors tiny bell that warned of new customers jingled as the one person Kyle wished wouldn't have walked in did just that.

"Woah-hoho! What have we got here? Craig and Kyhl kissing face?"

"Fuck you, fatass!"

Cartman snickered, glad to play the little game he missed so much.

Kyle really couldn't call Eric fat seeing how now that he'd joined several different sports lost the fat and gained more muscle, but his double chin was still there and his large body mass was still bigger than the average teenagers.

But Kyle still believed he had a right to.

"Whatever Jew. I'm not here to make fun of your scrawny fag self, I'm here to see my loving brother, Scott. Oh, Scott!"

Scott looked over his book he was holding and glared at his half sibling, daring him to say anything to him that didn't involve ordering a coffee or muffin.

"Well, hi Scott! I've missed you!"

The anger just soaked in the oxygen around the two gingers, leaving a stubborn, forced silence from Craig while Cartman seemed to feed off of the energy.

"God damnit fatass! Leave him alone!"

"Why? Scott's my brother, aren't you Scott? My loving sixteen dollar and twelve cents stealing brother!"

"You fed me my parents, your dad! You had them killed and you fed them to me! You orphaned me you son of a bitch!"

"'ey! My mom isn't a bitch!"

"Get out of here you pube buying asshole!"

The two got their red faces, from screeching boisterously, so close to each other during their argument that any viewers from the outside might think they were smacking face.

"Fuck you, you hippie ginger!"

The small bell above the door jingled once more.

"Well, hey there fellas!"

Butters, in his Hollister sweatshirt and Abercrombie jeans with messy, preppy hair, smiled at the four people, not sensing the danger he just walked into.

"I've been helping hand out flyers for Mrs. Marsh and was wondering if I could maybe put one in the window."

Butters speech had improved as they got older. He was more confident of himself then he use to be and it showed.

Scott made a signal to go for it and Butters nodded gratefully.

"What is Mrs. Marsh doing?"

"Why, haven't you heard Craig? Stan's gone missing."

Cartman turned from his brother to the smiling Butters with a smug look.

"Stan's missing? Great! One less hippie asshole to worry about!"

"Stan use to be your friend and now you're just blowing his disappearance off like it's nothing?" Craig twirled the sugar container on the counter around, watching it spin until it fell over, spilling a pinch of the contents out on the wooden table.

"He's probably off lobbing footballs for titty cancer and forgot to leave a message for his mommy. Or maybe he finally pissed off the wrong person!"

Cartman laughed deviously at the thought and Craig winced at the viciousness.

"Haha! Stan in a ditch, all chopped up! Seriously guys, stop putting such violent thoughts in my head, hahaha!"

Kyle felt his throat close up and his body clam up with worry and justified fear which Craig caught as the normally flushed skin drained of color.

The world started to spin, items and shades blended together while the ginger could have sworn he heard someone call out his name but it was just a buzzing annoyance.

'Oh god, Christophe, you didn't.'

Sitting in a chair next to the bed, Craig twisted Kyle's curls absentmindedly around his long fingers, admiring the original color.

The passed out boy didn't handle Stan's disappearance to well apparently but Craig couldn't, for the life of him, figure out why. It's not like they talked anymore. If anything they became a bit of enemies in years past. So why-why!-was Kyle so ruffled up about it?

A gentle sigh of contentment left the slightly parted pink lips of the sleeping boy, causing Craig to snap out of his thoughts.

He looked nervously at the clock, calculating how long it would be until his mom came home from her newest affair; because she was allowed to cheat but he wasn't allowed to be gay.

He knew his mom wouldn't be okay with his friends appearance with her newly found information but she'd let him stay until her husband stumbled into the house, reeking of alcohol.

What if Kyle wasn't awake by then? What would he have to do, carry him home?

"Craig?"

"Oh! I didn't hear you there, Ruby." Quickly pulling his hand away from the soft red hair he turned to meet his little sisters eyes.

"What's he doing here? Mom will get mad at you!"

"Don't worry sissy, he'll be out before she gets here."

"I'll get mad at you if he stays!"

"Ruby! I thought you liked Kyle?"

"I hate him! He throws himself all over you. I bet he's the reason you're gay!"

Not knowing his sister had overheard him and their parents little squabble, Craig's face quickly turned an unnatural crimson.

"He might be part of it but gay porn and disgusting vagina holes play a major role in the ultimate ending decision to."

It was Ruby's turn to color, but that didn't stop her from expressing her opinion.

"You don't love me, you never did! You fucking faggot, stay away from me!"

As quick as she came she left, screaming bloody murder about how he was going to burn in hell for his sin of liking men(1).

Kyle winced hearing the sweet girl turn into such an evil monster, but being afraid to interfere he continued to lie in his vegetable state until he heard sobs take the place of venom words.

Lifting the blankets off of himself, Kyle stood after testing his footing and wrapped his arms around his friend.

"Kyle?"

"Yeah, dude?"

"Feeling better?"

"All thanks to you."

Craig turned around, resting his head on top of Kyle's and draped his arms off of his hips.

"Broflovski?"

"Tucker?"

"What happened in the coffee shop today?"

"It seems I passed out."

Craig rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

"I know that but why?"

"Honest truth?"

"I'd appreciate it."

"Stan beat me and raped me, Craig, and I'm pretty sure that Christophe killed him."

* * *

**OMG! Review please!**

_**I really edited this chapter down. If you want me to post the kind of incesty part of the chapter just tell me and I'll stick an extra chapter in here for you but I warn you, it's not meant for the faint of heart.**_

**1) All I could think about with the hell thing was Damien and Craig meeting and having a real conversation. I think honestly that they would be good friends =3**


	10. Chapter 10

**Forgive me for the delay (I'm sure all of my loyal readers are pissed at me) but I've been forced to rewrite this chapter four different times due to losing it (I erased it once on my computer at home and once with my school laptop where it was done) or distaste (I had trouble with Christophe and his emotions here and if Craig should or shouldn't catch him).**

**At the end of this chapter I'll explain briefly about what I was planning with Craig if he didn't go with Kyle.**

**Quick warning, short lemony part around middle/end.  
**

_**Anyways, thanks for reading. Please review because it keeps me writing!**_

* * *

Gregory turned down the volume of his recent favorite TV show, Jersey Shore(1), when he seen Christophe enter the dim lighted room.

Inwardly Gregory sighed, wishing his coworker would go elsewhere instead of his place, but having no choice in the matter he watched the angry Frenchman waltz in uninvited.

"Put your cigarette out. My landlord will get mad if he smells smoke in here."

"Shut ze fuck up! I'll do damn well what I please!"

Christophe flung himself onto the leather recliner and kicked the nearest polished nightstand with enough force to cause the side of it to splinter from his boot.

"Uh… Is something bugging you?"

"Non. Turn ze god damn television up."

"Um, yeah… sure."

Just as Christophe ordered Gregory did due to fear of his friend's current mental state and his furniture's ending condition if he didn't.

"So, you want something to-"

"What ze fuck was I thinking?"

"Uh…" The blonde sunk down in his seat, hoping to blend in.

"There ez a poster with he'z face all over this shitty little town."

"Um…"

"Eet is not like that he's…" Christophe let out a frustrated growl.

"I'm a little lost here. Care to fill me in?"

"I had zat prick Marsh killed."

"Ah yes, I remember that. Made quite the deal out of it if I recall properly."

"Don't interrupt; oui…well now I've got both my feet in a steaming pile of shit all for that ginger boy who'z done nothing to prove his worth to me!"

Christophe stood suddenly and kicked the already fallen stand across the room, leaving a pile of pieces in its trail and an angry Gregory.

"Hey! Don't take it out on my furniture! That isn't cheap you know!"(2)

Gregory lifted himself off his recliner and inspected the scratched wooden floor with his hands accusingly placed on his hips.

"You do this every time you get obsessed with someone, my friend. You make every little mole hill of affection into a mountain of undying love. Remember Bridon Gueermo(3)? I sure the hell do. I had to clean that mess up for you. Or how about Mark Cotswolds(4)? Another mess. We were lucky he decided splattering his brains all over his mother's floor was a better solution than us doing it for him!

"Just have your fun quickly and be over with it. This one isn't any more special then the last dozen toys you've played with and destroyed so don't make it out to be. Now get me the phone and get back to work."

* * *

"Hey mom."

"Oh hi bubbala(5)! And Craig! It's so nice to see you. How's your sister? Are you staying for dinner sweetie?"

Craig slipped off his shoes and smiled at the plump woman who was the closest thing to a parent he'd ever had.

"She's fine. Yes, please. Thank you Mrs. Broflovski."

Sheila nodded knowingly, saying, "So that means you'll be staying the night. I'm sure you don't need any extra pillows and blankets but I'll bring some up to Kyle's room just in case. Dinner will be done in an hour boys." and walked off into the living room to finish the chapter in the most recent book that engrossed her.

Kyle made a quick signal to show that he wanted his friend to follow him and both made their way up the stairs.

Neither said a word as the Xboxes controllers were broken out and as blood and bullets took over the blank televisions screen.

And the silent ritual continued all the way through dinner unless one of the adults or Ike-which he hadn't said a word to Kyle or friends since Georgie came crying about the lies Kenny had told him-said something first.

Both climbed under the clean, white sheets and heavy throw (because living somewhere that snowed eleven months out of twelve required thick blankets), both shirtless and in their boxers, letting the horror movie that featured some slasher chopping off teens heads rock them to a wordless, restless sleep.

* * *

Christophe snickered deviously when Ike unlocked his bathroom window for him to enter without as much as a freak out.

"My brother is seriously right down the hall. Why can't you fucking climb through his window instead of mine?"

"I seen that tall friend of his and didn't want to wake 'em up. Music not helping?"

Grumpily, like a stubborn child, Ike kicked at empty air while staring with furrowed eyebrows at the hardly visible ground.

"I am guessing zat is a non? Try a warm bath before bed or some kind of z'exual release, I'm sure you can process what zat meanz. Now, do me two favors."

* * *

Craig first noticed the missing person from the bed when he started to freeze over.

Normally he was so snuggled into Kyle he hardly ever needed a blanket, so the absence of the Jew was making a large difference in his comfort levels.

Looking at the clock for a brief moment, (3:14 A.M.) he rolled over on his side and waited for Kyle to return from what was most likely the bathroom but after fifteen minutes Craig forced himself out of the bed.

Slipping a shirt that was crumpled up on the floor on, he tiptoed around in the upstairs hall until he heard the bath tub running in Kyle's preferred bathroom.

Craig didn't hesitate to open the door slightly, after all he'd seen Kyle naked before(6).

He almost called out his friend's name before doing it but when he seen the contents of the room, he was glad he didn't.

* * *

Kyle could feel Christophe's hot tongue dancing lightly on his neck but he hardly noticed the act as he was more focused on the burning pleasure in-between his legs.

The cool tiles on his cheek and hands were starting to get sticky with the sweat that was leaking out of his pores.

The sounds of running water were intertwining with the quiet moans that escaped the duos lips.

"…Mon cher."

Christophe grabbed a fistful of the red curls and lifted it up, turning Kyle's head to the side to offer access to his swollen lips.

Their tongues fought fiercely, only being interrupted by a moan or two by Kyle and Christophe repositioning himself.

Pulling back, the Frenchman untangled his right hand and placed it on the ground while using his left to start pumping the person under him with his eradicated movements.

Kyle felt his body tense up for a brief moment before he relaxed, staying in his current position to let Christophe finish up.

To numb to feel the hot seed fill him up, the redhead remained on his knees with his head resting on the floor until he was flipped around on his back.

"Are vous okay, mon cher?"

"Y-yes."

Nodding in approval, Christophe stood up and slipped on his pants before digging through cupboards like they were his.

"W-what a-are you looking for?"

Pulling out a cigarette from his pocket, he stuck it in his mouth unlit.

"Something to clean vous up."

Blushing furiously, Kyle stood up shakily with help of the counter top.

"In the bottom one."

Eyebrow raised, Christophe opened the drawer, pulling out what looked like a syringe with a large smirk on his face.

* * *

Craig, with the Xbox controller in his hand, dangled his feet off of the edge of the bed, trying to erase the images that were most likely going to be stuck in his head for the rest of his life.

"Tucker! What are you doing up?"

The dark, messy haired boy shook his head and offered the second game controller to him.

"I woke up sometime after you left and couldn't sleep."

Kyle took the offered piece of plastic and sat down next to Craig, hoping the sex smell was washed off of him completely.

"Why didn't you come and find me then. I just got up to take a bath." The lie slipped out so easily, the redhead almost believed it himself.

"I did and…well, walked into your bathroom because I heard water running and uh."

Face the color of a tomato, the older teen shrugged.

"And what?"

"Walked in…"

"We covered that already."

"Yeah… uhm. Your brother. Naked. Jacking it."

Silence.

"Oh my god!" Kyle burst out in tears and laughter, not caring if anyone heard him.

"Shut up! You'll wake your parents!"

"You caught my brother, naked, masturbating, how can I be quiet?"

"Damnit Kyle, shut up! I thought you were the one in there not him. How many times do you travel downstairs to take a bath?"

"Still, knock much?"

"Whatever. Let's just finish this round and go to bed."

* * *

_**ReViEw**_

**Question!: Should I have let Craig find out about the banging in the bathroom or is it fine the way it is?**_**  
**_

**1) I personally haven't watched Jersey Shore but I picture Gregory being really in to it.**

**2) Anyone else see Gregory having antique furniture? I do. He's just classy like that in my mind.  
**

** 3)Bridon is the singing boy from the High School Musical episode. I choose him because he seemed like he deserved some attention from the fans.**

**4) Mark is from the spelling b episode. He's the home schooled kid with the slutty sister. I picked him because I like his attitude throughout the show.  
**

**5)I've seen the nickname Kyle's mom has given him spelled a billion different ways and honestly I don't know which is right. I just kinda went with it so forgive me if it is incorrect.**

**6) In case you didn't realize this, I've been hinting since the beginning that Craig and Kyle have had sex before which is why Craig is all 'Oh naked Kyle, big whoop.'**

**_My original plan for the ending of Kyle and Christophe as a couple was a runaway together while Craig moved away with his mommy. He would have came back to South Park for his little sister's graduation (For she would have stayed home with her dad and wouldn't be as big of a nutcase as she is now.) and he'd run into Tweek and ta-da! Instant couple just add coffee! I choose Tweek because honestly I wanted him to have an ending where people would be pleased and seeing that more people like him paired with Tweek then anyone else I choose that._  
**


End file.
